


You're Safe, You're Loved

by invisible_nobody



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 04:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_nobody/pseuds/invisible_nobody
Summary: A series of snapshots depicting Hearthstone's emotional journey through the hardships in his life.





	You're Safe, You're Loved

You’re Safe, You’re Loved

He saw the way they looked at him.

They never looked him in the eye when they said nasty things; they’d always look at the ground. Not that he knew what they were saying - he was deaf, and communicated mostly through body language - but the looks on their faces said everything. His father, especially, would look at him no different than he would look at a rodent infestation.

_ Disgust.  _ That would be the word that he would later use to describe it.

His mother, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as intense. She would touch him, almost affectionately, whereas his father would go out of his way to avoid physical contact with the son he was disgusted by. His mother would risk a small smile at him from time-to-time whenever her small boy did anything fitting the description of ‘cute’. It was his mother, matter of fact, who pushed his father to teach him to read and write.

Unfortunately, his father didn’t treat him any better while he was teaching him. Every time he made a mistake writing a letter, spelling a word, or if his handwriting was just not good enough, he would call him unthinkable names (that he would only later know what were, as he couldn’t yet read lips) and look at him with more anger than his father had ever directed at any other elf.

That summed up his childhood pretty well, didn’t it?

_ Just not good enough. _

Every night when he went to bed, Hearthstone cried.

* * *

 

Were things better with his brother?

That was a hard question to answer. His parents didn’t treat him any better, but their attention wasn’t on him nearly as much. With all of the attention on Andiron, his parents didn’t have time to berate him for his shortcomings as often. So, in that regard, he would have to say ‘yes, things were better with his brother’.

The baby was perfect - as was every other elf. He was exactly what his parents wanted. His features were sharp, even with the baby-fat, his eyes large like his father’s. He learned to walk quickly; in less than a year. He was intelligent, and did well in school. No better than the average A student in Alfheim, but his father would have you think the kid was a prodigy. And, most importantly, the boy could hear.

Something that Hearth could never improve; something that would never come with practice.

The best part about having his brother around, however, had nothing to do with his parents. No, the best part  _ was _ his brother. Andiron, bless his heart, genuinely liked Hearth;  _ loved  _ Hearth. It didn’t seem to matter to him that his big brother was deaf. He even learned sign language for Hearthstone, despite their parents wishes… after finding the  _ one _ elf that was willing to let the disappointment son of Alderman learn how to communicate, other than his soul-crushing whiteboard. Hearthstone would never forget that man.

Yes, Hearth decided, life was actually enjoyable with his brother. He was actually  _ happy  _ from time-to-time; he was able to smile and laugh like normal kids his age, because he had someone in his life who cared about him, and about his well being. Life was liveable.

Until that day, playing at the well.

* * *

 

He never could have known. He had no way to stop it.

That was what he kept telling himself, and what his future friends would say. There was no way the deaf kid could have heard his little brother’s screams. There was no way to know that when he turned around, a ladybug in his cupped hands, that he would see his brother’s broken and bloody body lying on the ground. There was no way he could have saved Andiron.

But that didn’t make the memory any less vivid.

Not just in his nightmares, but everytime he closed his eyes, he would relive it. The images always came first. Andiron lying on his stomach, head turned too far to the right for the bone to be in one piece. The stained-red grass around his body. The bright sky. His tunnel vision kept him from recalling much else about the visuals. As for touch…

Hearthstone can only recall feeling numb, physically. 

Emotionally, he was broken.

The loss of his brother had meant everything to him. Andiron had been the one person who he could trust. Andiron had been the one person who saw beyond his disability. Andiron had been the one person who loved him unconditionally. Andiron was everything.

He never could have known. He had no way to stop it.


End file.
